


Who Will Save You Now?

by Fallencellist



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Starts out a little slow, but will get good, may include hints of other ships, such as Medic/Medic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:35:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7794886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallencellist/pseuds/Fallencellist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As years go by constantly killing each other in a never ending war over gravel, one expects to only befriend their own teammates, and never to look for comfort in another man's arms, unless you are Medic, in which those arms are your own clone's arms. Now, RED and BLU are pitted against each other in new challenges and missions, and as the rivalry grows between two classes on opposing teams, something else begins to bloom inside them. The only problem is, how are they going to make it work? Cross-team friendships were frowned upon, RED Soldier and BLU Demoman forced to break off their friendship, what would the company think about them going beyond just a friendship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Good the Bad and the Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a sort of remake of an old fanfiction I have over on my Deviantart account. I wrote it about four years ago, and on a whim I decided to edit it and redo it. I've changed a few parts, added in new dialogue and events. I'll be editing the next chapter and posting it as soon as I get done, after that it will be all new stuff (yup, only got two chapters into the story). 
> 
> I'm still working out the details for the story as a whole, and this will also be an experiment and test of how well I can do romantic relationships. Hope you enjoy it anyways! Reviews are always welcomed, and hey, if you like it, share it!
> 
> The title of the work is based on a song by Les Friction "Who Will Save You Now." Go look it up on Youtube and it will give you the general feeling of the story as a whole. Chapter title is a song by Panic! At the Disco.

The rain dripped down, pattering gently on the roof of the old van as the wind rushed, chilling the bushman. He sat up with a low growl, his hand searching around for his hat. Today was one of the few days off from fighting, so he had hoped to catch up on some long lost rest, but the cold was keeping him from that desire. 

His blue eyes watched as each drop fell upon the window, looking out upon the water soaked scenery, "Bloody hell," a groan slipped from him, "It looks awfully cold out there…" 

The bushman shook his head slowly, brushing his hair back and getting up, slowly dragging himself over to the coffee pot. To his dismay, the brown elixir was out, " Gah!?" He took a step back, "I thought I filled the bloody thing last night!" He let out another annoyed growl, swiping up his jacket and opened the door into the cold rainy world, "Looks like I'll have to go to the base to get some…" 

Sniper's eyes scanned the area, searching for any of his teammates, or even one of the enemies. You could never be too careful, especially with those bloody Spooks lurking around all the time. 

The mess hall was empty and the rest of the base was quite except for the occasional beep from the Engineer's sentry posted above as a watch dog. He never really liked that thing, especially how noisy it was, and how many kills it had taken away from him, but it was a good way to keep enemies away from the intelligence. 

He stopped in front of the strange contraption, watching it move back and forth, the beeping ringing every few seconds, his eyes focused on the shine upon the metal. It always puzzled him how that man could build something like this within a few seconds, and how he could keep it running; this was beyond the bushman's understanding. Why did he have to care about some bloody contraption? His only worry was if the BLU Scout was stupid enough to go into his line of sight, or if he was going to be backstabbed. 

With a few minutes of watching the contraption, Sniper decided it would be time to go on and get his coffee before the others woke up; he hated having to listen to them all yabbing on and on about different things, Scout usually mocking him for staying out of the line of fire, Engineer talking about his bloody contraptions, and Demoman's drunken talk. 

His boot hit the ground, and then the beeping changed, as if firing at an enemy, but no bullets were shot, no screams of pain was heard. Sniper's head whipped in the direction, seeing nothing, not even a bullet hole. He tipped up his hat, trying to get a better look at the surrounding, "The bloody hell was that?"He shrugged off the incident and continued his way to the coffee maker. He began to pour himself a cup of coffee when a small explosion could be heard. 

"Spy's sappin' my sentry!" Engineer gasped, jerking awake from his sleep hearing the sound he never liked to hear. He barely had time to wake up before he heard his sentry explode, “Sentry down!” Quickly, he threw of the covers, running out into the rain soaked world with only his pajamas on. 

Outside he quickly turned the corner, and ran over to where the scraps of his creation lay strewn on the cement. 

"How in tarnation did this happen?" As the Texan began to pick up the remains of his sentry, shaking his head slowly, “Usually that cowardly snake doesn't come around unless it's close to the mission, or he's going to harass one of our teammates...” He trailed off, smelling the faint scent of smoke and expensive French cologne. 

Suddenly there was a rush of air followed by a small chuckle, "That would be my doing, pardner." That French voice; the voice Engineer never liked to hear. Every muscle in his body began to tense up, his fingers curling.. 

"SPY!" The Texan screeched out, looking around for anything to use at a weapon. He cursed himself for not bringing any sort of weapon along, especially since he had known there was a spy around. But still, there he stood, not a single weapon near his fingers, and the snake lingering around him. 

The blue suited man appeared in smoke and pressed his finger up against Engineer's lips, scaring the man right out of his skin, "Non…." the blade pressed up against Engineer's neck as the hot breath touched the Texan's ear, "Engineer." 

The Spy moved the blade swiftly across Enginner's neck, making sure not to make a mess. He flicked the cigarette bud onto Engineer's body, "Everybody back to the base, pardner." He let out a laugh as smoke covered every inch of his body. 

As the smoke began to dissipate, the lanky blue suited man was replaced with the shorter Texan, exactly as the now deceased man whom laid on the floor, all expect for the missing hat. 

Slowly he picked up the hat from the dead enemy, adjusted it and smirked, "Now, onto the next step." He laughed in a perfect imitation of the Texan's voice and went towards the mess hall. 

Sniper watched the entrance from where he came, a worried expression sweeping across his face; really only one person could get a sentry by slowly destroying it, and that person was one nobody wanted to see on or off the battlefield: Spy. 

The Aussi sighed, taking a sip of his coffee: it was an unusual occurrence, and it left him on edge more than usual. As the hot liquid slipped down his throat he let out a low grunt; it was a bit warmer than he had thought. 

Gently he placed the mug onto the table, shaking his head and let out a few coughs, trying to banish away the burning sensation. After a few short coughs the pain ebbed away. 

As he began to calm down, the clunk of boots sounded behind him, causing Sniper to check his surroundings. It was habit for him, to check everything to make sure there wasn't an unseen assailant waiting to ambush him, “Who's there?” His voice was still raspy from the hot coffee. 

"Just me Sniper," The familiar Texas tone flowed to his ear and gave him a feeling of relief, it was only Engineer. Still, it never hurt him to be a bit more cautious of his teammates, since there was the possibility the BLU Spy was doing one of his little disguise tricks. Or hell, it could have been his own Spy deciding to be an ornery little bugger and pretending to be other members of the team. 

“What are you doing up so early, Mate?” Sniper spoke up, cocking his eyebrow, “I guess you really are trained to hear the sound of your machines being sapped.” 

Engineer shrugged, sitting down on the bench next to Sniper, “Yeah, after so many years of hearing the sound of that sapper on my buildings, and the explosion that follows if I'm not quick enough, I start hearing it in my nightmares.” The Texan shivered, before continuing, “But looks like we have to deal with a BLU Spy around here. Woke up from my beauty sleep too late to save the sentry.” 

“You going to build a new one?” the Aussi questioned, taking the mug of coffee in hand, “You know to keep the base safe from any BLU's who are stupid enough to try to attack the base on their own after battle hours?” 

“I'll wait until it gets a bit lighter out,” Engineer hummed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Gotta pick up my wrench and supplies since, well,” he chuckled, looking down at himself then back to Sniper, “I'm in my Pjs.” 

“Ah,” Sniper snorted, noticing that the egghead was wearing a long sleeved pair of pajamas, printed with small toasted pieces of bread on a sea of red. It was always confusing to the Sniper how obsessed the RED Engineer was over toast. They all had their obsessions, Sniper knew that—like how his brother over on the other team, the BLU Sniper, had a strange obsession with holding various pastries in jars and “torturing” them—it was something he didn't question, but still found it odd. 

“Well then you shouldn't have to wait long,” Sniper continued, taking a sip of his coffee, “Daylight should be coming soon.” 

The Texan nodded, before the two of them began their usual event of getting into a conversation they thought had run dry, or the fact that they never intended to get into such a long conversation. Engineer always knew that Sniper wasn't a man for long conversations, but even so they would always end up talking each other's ears off. 

Sniper was glad to have Engineer on his team, and one of the few that could get a long conversation out of him. The Texan was one of the few mercenaries he could stand on RED as well. The Soldier was much too annoying for him. The man insisted that Sniper was American, because he didn't have a tail or long feet, with a pouch to hold his young and bounced on his tail to maneuver around. Despite many times of Sniper telling him that not everybody in Australia was a Kangaroo or some buff person who had a caterpillar under their nose, Soldier never gave up on his stance. Eventually Sniper just gave up trying to convince the man otherwise. It was too much work and something he didn't particularly care about doing. It made being around the Soldier much easier, which was often given the personality of the American. 

The RED Scout was probably the most annoying person on the team. He was always second best to his twin brother on the battlefield. The BLU Scout was smarter, faster, more skilled with any weapon, and could easily beat his twin in any fight. RED Scout, hated that he was second best, and always took it out on his team. If he messed up somehow on the battlefield, it was always his teammates fault and not his own. On many occasions, Scout would pin it on Sniper, because he would—in the Boston kid's words—'Hide up in a little hole and only pick on the weak.' 

Eventually Sniper had gotten sick of the brat and snidely stated, “Is that why the BLU Sniper gets so many headshots in on you?” After that Scout took a bit more time to make sure he avoided the BLU Sniper, and blamed Sniper less for the failures, going onto other teammates. 

He didn't mind Heavy or Demoaman: they were fun to be around and always had a good story to tell, but Sniper never really could fully connect with them. Most of the time it was him sitting and listening to their stories, sometimes voicing his opinion in small words or audible noises such as a grunt or a hum. It wasn't really his cup of tea per say. He preferred listening over being the one talking, but he would like to have more than a few seconds to talk, and to share something as well. Plus, Heavy would often get interrupted by Medic, in which then he would drop everything and go help out the doctor, leaving Sniper confused and alone. 

The RED Spy was alright, he did have some good pointers to give, and at one time taught Sniper how to defend himself in close range combat with his Kukri. Other than that, the two didn't fraternize much outside of battle or “mandatory meetings and gatherings” that Soldier forced them to do. He was especially annoying at times when he would disguise as other team members and cause fights between the two because of something he did as the other person. He had Medic on him once because Spy disguised as him and started to flirt with the Medic. 

That was something that very few people wanted. The RED Medic was a little odd, even for being the clone of the BLU Medic, Dr. Joseph Heilbierg. Something about the man really gave Sniper the creeps, and he could swear on multiple occasions he either catch the German looking at his butt, or see him looming in the window of his van in the middle of the night. Medic was good at giving people the creeps. 

As for Pyro, it was hard to understand him, and not just because he had the mask that made all his words translate into a bunch of mumbles. It was because he seemed to talk in riddles, or gave a hugely prolific statement that would put any philosopher to shame. The guy wasn't too bad to be around, he was cheerful and friendly, it was just hard to understand him. The poor arsonist would have to repeat himself so many times for other to at least remotely understand him. Sniper didn't blame Pyro for getting frustrated so much, but even so he wasn't allowed to take off his mask. It was the rule of being a Pyro, just like a Spy: you cannot be without your mask in front of the other teammates. Though, Sniper could have sworn both Spy and Pyro knew how they looked under the mask, because on occasion Spy would tell Pyro "I like the new haircut." Nobody could even tell if Pyro was male or female, and Spy knew when the guy got his hair cut. 

That only left Engineer, the one Sniper could connect with the most, even if the man liked to talk way too much about his contraptions. He was always so peppy and uplifting, though sometimes would start using his engineering jargon and big words, losing Sniper in the conversation. The Aussi would just nod and listen, mostly not knowing what he was talking about, but was too stubborn to ask the Texan to explain what the words meant. He was a grown man and a professional assassin, he didn't need to ask for somebody to explain big words to him. 

Today, Engie was even more peppy, and much to Sniper's surprise, not talking about his old contraptions, “I'm getting mighty sick of all these Spies sapping my sentries.” Well at least not fully talking about them. 

“It's like every time I look away, there's one sapping away at it,” he threw his hands up in the air and let out a laugh, “It's hard to tell sometimes that there is only one of them on BLU team!” 

Sniper let out a snort, hitting his friend on the back, “Well at least you don't have to worry about him sneaking up on you and stabbing you in the back all the time why you're trying to get a bloody wanker in the head.” He hadn't noticed as he spoke, but next to him Engineer gave a small glare towards him, dusting off his back where Sniper had slapped him. 

“Only when I'm trying to stop someone from taking the intelligence or capping the point,” Engie joked, quickly turning the glare into a playful one when the Aussi turned his attention to him. 

They continued to toss back and forth stories about how each one of them had encounters with the BLU Spy. One story particularly intrigued and disturbed Sniper. According to Engie, during one of the humiliations rounds, the BLU Spy had caught up with Engineer after being dominated by the Texan, and proceeded to torture the hell out of him. The only thing that saved him was the fact that after twenty minutes of humiliation, the respawn would pull the remaining members of the losing team out of the field and into the respawn room. Engineer had never been so grateful for that fact ever in his life. 

By the time they were starting to slow down, the sun had risen into the sky, and was almost at it's peak. A few of their teammates had woken up, eventually going to their weekend routines. Not many stayed around though: they knew that if they joined in on the conversation, or even listened, they would be dragged into hours of gabbing. 

“Well,” Sniper stretched his hands above his head, “I'd best be getting back to my van,” Slowly he stood up, arching his back a bit, “Gotta work on cleaning up the bloody place.” 

Engineer stood up with him, placing the bare hand onto his friend's arm, since he was much too short to reach his shoulder when they were both standing up, “I'll come with you. I don't have much to do today since there's no battle scheduled for today.” 

“You sure?” Sniper rose and eyebrow in suspicion, eyeing his teammate for a moment, “Usually you don't want to be outside of your workshop.” 

The man shrugged, “I need to get out more anyways. And we still haven't finished up with the best stories,” he grinned, eventually getting a grin back from the Aussi. 

“Alright mate,” Sniper waved for the Texan to follow him, “Just this once. And you can't tell anyone how it was to be inside my van.” 

“Of course,” Engie smiled with a nod, “Nobody gets to see the inside and makes it out alive.” He paused a moment as Sniper started walking, struggling to hide the smirk that was pulling at the corner of his lips. Once under control, he quickly trotted after the lanky Aussi. 

As the two left the RED base, a very disgruntled Texan stumbled out from the RED respawn room, his eyes adjusting to the change of light. He groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening them again, seeing a very confused Heavy staring at him. 

“Didn't you just leave with Sniper?” The Russian questioned, his face plastered with confusion. As his question sank in, both stiffened, their blood going cold. 

“Spy!” They both burst out, worry washing over them. They both directed their attention in the direction of the Sniper's van. 

Sniper opened up the door of his van, glancing back to Engineer, “Don't mind the mess, wasn't expecting company today, or well,” he chuckled, stepping up into his home, “Any time really.” 

“It's alright pardner,” Engineer smiled, watching as Sniper went towards the front of the van, “It isn't very often you invite somebody into your home.” 

Carefully he stood towards the back of the camper, watching as Sniper picked up a decently large case, placing it atop one of the cushioned chairs set permanently in place. The case was quick to open with two latches on either end, revealed to hold a variety of different papers. From his vantage point, he could only see a few words and some pages were full of doodles of various places and animals, perhaps ones the sharpshooter had seen on his travels in Australia. 

When the Sniper's attention was fully on the papers in his hands, a smirk fell onto Engineer's face. Silently the disguise disappeared into a blue haze, revealing the suit clad man, his basilong clenched tightly in his hand, exposed and ready to slice through flesh. 

It took all his willpower not to let out a laugh, watching as the Sniper kept his focus on the papers. Silently and carefully Spy stalked forward, making sure not to make a breath of sound or move anything out of place, staying out of the peripheral vision of the enemy. 

"Usually you're not this quiet, mate," Sniper mumbled, not looking up from his work. He didn't do so much as raise his head, “You sure you're feeling alright?” 

Spy stopped in his tracks, using his best imitation voice for the Engineer, "Just tired. Had a restless night and well with that Spy sapping my sentry it's gotten my nerves all jumpy." His eyes narrowed as he moved closer to the RED enemy, his fingers lightly drumming on the hilt of the blade. 

“Yeah I guess that would do it,” Sniper laughed, placing a few pages down onto the small pop-out table in front of him, “Maybe you should talk to Medic about getting some medication to help with sleep.” 

“I think I'll be fine,” Spy replied in perfect mimic of the Engineer. By now he was only a few feet away from his goal. 

In the last few missions, only one person had stood in his way of getting his prize: backstabbing any enemy he could get his knife into. Sniper. The man always seemed to be in the right position to know exactly where he was, and would always off him quickly with a shot through the head. He was sick of it, and now he would get his revenge on the stupid bushman, even if it cost him a chunk of his pay for killing an enemy off work hours. 

His blood began to boil with anticipation, his mind starting to buzz as he stepped closer to his prey, his blue eyes focused deeply on the bushman's head. This time he wouldn't make it a quick death by stabbing him right in the spine where it would sever his spinal cord and end his suffering quickly. He had a lot of pent up rage towards the Aussi and his team, and killing a man was the best known way to relieve stress. 

His gloved hand gripped the blade tighter, raising it above his head, ready to strike down.


	2. A Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't go how the BLU Spy expected, but it's not a complete failure as they go from 0 to 100 pretty fast. RED Scout also has the best timing to ruin everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter I had written over four years ago took a lot longer to rewrite than the first chapter. I changed a LOT when it came to the interactions between Sniper and Spy, and changed the way they were forced to stop. It's a bit more congruent with their personalities, and with what happened with the last chapter. From here on out it will be all new writing!
> 
> Chapter title is the song A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, thought the version I was listening to why rewriting this was the version done by The Piano Guys. Check it out, it's amazing!

What was going on? The BLU Spy watched as the gloved hand poised above for the kill with the knife gripped tightly above the victim's head… wouldn't move. What was causing this?! This man, this filthy jar man, had taken his chances to get revenge countless times, but still, somehow, someway, he just couldn't kill him. 

Something was stopping him from lowering his hand and getting his revenge. Eons seamlessly passed by in the seconds it took Spy to struggle with the invisible force upon his hand; his hand began to shake, his body becoming hot. Finally, with an effort he had never seen or used before, he forced his hand down for the kill. 

With fierce speed, the RED Sniper whipped around, grabbing the hand that held the knife. He lunged forward, pinning the Spy to the wall of his van, causing the whole thing to rock a bit, “I knew you weren't Engineer. I thought I smelled the stench of smoke and cheep wine.” 

“How dare you think I drink cheep wine,” the Spy sneered, struggling to get his arm free from the grip of the Aussi. Despite his lanky build, the Aussi knew how to keep a grip. He knew his RED counterpart had taught the Sniper how to defend himself better in close quarters, which added more work onto his side, something he usually didn't mind, but he more preferred to dominate the sharpshooter than having to struggle to kill him. 

“If you knew I wasn't the laborer,” Spy spat, “Then why did you let me into your 'home?'” He made sure that he added an extra emphasis on the sarcasm in 'home.' It was pathetic that the man lived in a van, but it had a bit of an amusement factor to the Frenchman. 

The Sniper sneered, reaching for his Kukri that was only a few feet away, laying on the countertop, “Because you bloody Spook,” he swiped up the large knife, placing its cold metal against he covered neck of the intruder, “I knew you would try to do something like this! Just don't like the fact you can't get an easy kill on me anymore, mate?” He chuckled low, before chiding, “I like it this way.” 

“Just enjoy ruining my fun don't you?” Spy hissed coldly, reaching towards his back to pull out his hidden knife, “Perhaps my infiltration skills have been greatly over exaggerated.” His voice changed to one of humor, letting out a quite laugh, keeping his mouth closed so it more sounded like a strange breathing pattern. 

The bushman growled low, tightening his grip on the Spy's gloved hand, shoving his knee into his chest, the Spy responding with an oof, “I've dealt with you Spooks before, besides,” he craned his neck to the side, his brown hair flipping a bit with the turning of his head. He spit into a small container in the corner with a _tink_ , getting a expression of complete disgust from the BLU Spy. 

“Filthy jar man,” Spy hissed, curling his lip in a sneer, “You disgust me.” 

Sniper brushed past the insult, continuing with his previous thought, “If you were the real Engineer, you would have been able to catch the hints I put down. Plus,” Sniper leaned his face close to the Spy's, his breath hot, reeking of black coffee and cigarettes, followed by his voice going cold as his husk tone whispered in the covered ear of the Spy, “Engineer wouldn't have left his buildings alone, or leave the base unguarded. He would have built the sentry right back up, and would have beat you senseless with his wrench.” 

“Hah,” Spy had to stop himself from snorting as he laughed, shaking his head, “The idiot didn't even bring his wrench to check on his precious toys.” He paused, feeling the blade of the Kukri press closer against his throat. This hadn't gone in any way as he had planned. By now he was supposed to be on top, standing over the bleeding body of the RED Sniper as he slowly died, laughing at him. He was supposed to show who was on top, not be shown himself what the other thought was the natural order of things. 

“Well then,” Spy cleared his throat. He felt the grip vanish from his hand, but before he could move it moved to its new place around his throat. A cough escaped him before he spat out his words, “Why don't you get this over with so we can go back to our weekend plans, and then we can continue killing each others teammates.” 

He slowly closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly. It was always annoyingly slow and painful being killed by the overly large knife of the Bushman. Excessive if you asked him. It did make him think about the way he killed people, but only momentarily before he brushed it off. He braced himself, letting his muscles relax to reduce the pain that would be coming. 

He waited and waited to feel the metal slice through his flesh, to bleed out and then fall to blackness, to have his senses go numb, and to wake up almost instantly, forgetting most of the pain of his death. It was nice to have those memories suppressed, but he sometimes wished they wouldn't be suppressed for his enemies so they would know not to mess with him. 

Knowing that the death would only be temporary made the event less dramatic, but the process of respawning took too long for Spy's liking. It was horrible sitting in the limbo of life and death, waiting for the machine to spit you out minutes later after your death. Some people would literally give their life lite to have the chance to live again. He enjoyed living after death, but he would prefer it without the waiting. 

And waiting was not his strong suit depending on the situation. When it came to waiting for the right moment to drive his basilong into the back of his unwitting victim, or to swipe in and destroy the laborer's toys, he could wait a long time, hell even a whole match just to make their day even worse. The only waiting he hated, was waiting for his own demise, which was exactly what he was waiting for at the moment. 

He wanted to try again, of course not too close after this attempt. The bushman would be too aware of his surroundings if he tried again only a few hours later. He had to wait. Let the paranoia sink into the sharpshooter's mind, and then let it stew inside him, making the man look over his shoulder, turn every corner after getting a good look what was ahead, and start not trusting his teammates again. The Spy knew why his RED counterpart liked to mess with his team so much, it was a lot of fun. 

Years seemed to pass by, neither man moving or even daring to breath too heavy. Spy began to sense a discomfort in the air, his curiosity beginning to overcome his annoyance with both the Sniper and himself. Cautiously and slowly he opened a single eye, barely being able to see the Sniper's hat, before he heard the other let out a low growl. 

“Don't you dare open your eyes. Keep them closed unless you want to watch yourself bleed out!” The Sniper snapped, though there was something off in his voice. It was as if he wasn't sure of himself, perhaps even reluctance. 

Spy hummed, closing his eye tightly again, but couldn't help but smirk slightly, “Then why haven't you done it yet? You don't like me, and I don't like you, so why are we still in the company of each other?” 

“W-what?” Sniper's mind rushed, his words fumbling out of his mouth, “I-I don't want to be in your c-company for along longer t-than I have to!” The grip on the Spy's neck loosened a bit, giving the slippery man a chance to turn the tides into his favor. 

With a quick and single movement Spy knocked the Kukri out of the Sniper's hand and switched their positions, grabbing onto the vested shoulders of his opponent, pinning him to the wall. He had pushed the other a bit harder into the wall than what he had wanted, but shrugged it of. 

Sniper on the other hand let out a grunt of surprise at the force of the moment, his shades falling to the bridge of his nose, “Gah...” He tried to struggle, to get the upper hand again, but the Spy was ready, holding one arm behind the Aussi's back, with a knee pressed against his body. They were so close to each other, it made Sniper uncomfortable. 

“You shouldn't have let your guard down, mon enemi,” Spy growled, a hint of amusement dancing in his tone, “Since you skipped your turn, it's my turn again!” With his free hand, the Spy pulled out another knife hidden away in the back of his suit. 

_How many pockets does that bloody suit have_? Sniper cursed in his head, feeling the blade hover dangerously close to his neck. He growled a little, trying to shift his position, though couldn't get too far due to the fact the enemy was so close in his personal space. His blue eyes flicked their focus towards the sea blue eyes of the Spy, noticing that something was off. Whenver he had the chance to see the snake's eyes, they were full of anger, determination and a hint of bloodlust. This time, there was a lack of all three, even a hint of something he didn't expect. Through the hard shell the Spy cloaked himself in, into the deeper core inside, he noticed something. That one thing he never though Spooks like the other could risk to feel: love. 

“What the?” Sniper mumbled, his eyes widening at the discovery he just made. It wasn't just the fact he discovered that the BLU Spy, the man who even sometimes gave his own son the cold shoulder, who seemed to not show any signs of even liking his team, was capable of love, but that feeling was directed, towards him: the RED Sniper. 

He became flustered, his cheeks heating up at the thought that the enemy had a crush on him. It felt like he was child all over again, playing embarrassed when he heard that some popular kid had a crush on him, pretending not to have known the detail but failing miserably to hide it. He had never thought anybody, especially somebody on the other team—hell even somebody on his own team—would have any sort of attraction to him. It was just like what the Spooks hissed to him on multiple occasions, he was a “filthy jar man.” 

Why should they anyways? He preferred to keep his personal life secret, to not make such close bonds with anyone. It was part of the job being a mercenary and a professional. As he said himself, a professional has a plan to kill everyone he met, and that especially included the people he worked with and against. But this, this discovery made him feel different, odd in a way. He wanted to hermit away from his emotions, to hide them away and hope to never see that look in the BLU's face ever again. 

He turned his head with a small sigh, hoping to avoid the Spy from seeing the change in his expression, but moved too slow. The Spy's eyes narrowed suspiciously as the RED tried to turn away, forcing the man to return to facing him, the sea blue eyes burning into his blue ones now no longer hidden behind the tinted sunglasses, “Ashamed of something, or do you not like to look at me?” 

The voice that came out was a mix of annoyance and curiosity, especially when the Sniper's face started to turn almost the same red as his shirt, “Is there a reason for the color change in your face?” He sounded genuinely confused. 

Sniper tried to hold it in, but the eyes burning into him caused him to flinch. Finally, after crumbling under the stare, he lowered his head, mumbling softly, “I don't know you Spooks could feel love.” 

At the mention of love, Spy let go of the bushman so quickly it was like he was on fire, “I-I...” He stumbled over his own feet, having to brace himself against a wall, “I don't know w-what you are talking about...” his voice cracked slightly, feeling an uneasy feeling wash over him. His hands shook as he brought them up to his eye level, _Maybe that's why I couldn't kill him earlier, but then how come I'm able to kill him on the battlefield?_

The sea blue eyes trailed up to the RED Sniper standing in front of him, seeing a worried expression on the man's face. Then it all donned on him: on the battlefield his mind was focused, sharp as a nail. He was only focused on reaching the target, not observing how the target's body looked without his knife poking out of their back. As his eyes trailed around the Sniper's body, he had the chance to notice the scar that was across his left cheek, trailing over to the side of his nose, very similar to the one his own Sniper had. The eyes that were usually hidden behind the shades, revealed to be a brilliant sky blue. Never before did he see the lean build of the bushman, but now that he examined the body, he liked it—a lot! 

There was only one thing aching his heart, alas, he could never admit it. They were on opposite teams, let alone being two of the classes that hated each other the most. All his experiences with Snipers, be it his own team's Sniper or the RED Sniper, had never been pleasurable. What else did he expect? They were born in the Outback where hygiene was a luxury nobody seemed to enjoy, and besides the fact the bushmen bottled their own urine and threw it at people. It was absolutely disguising. 

Sniper watched the other, noticing the all familiar look: inner turmoil. It was something the Sniper knew himself very well: the fact no eye contact was made, avoiding the others eyes completely, but the part of looking over the other wasn't the usual routine. In a moment, he found himself doing the same as the other. He began to notice things he never saw before in the Spy, _probably would look even better without the suit on_. With that thought he tensed up every muscle painfully, cursing internally. He was furious with himself, having such thoughts about the enemy! 

He had to stop those thoughts. Sniper growled softly, causing the Spy to look directly at him. With the sudden movement, the sky blue eyes turned as well, causing both pairs of eyes to lock into contact. They stood that way, eyes never breaking their gaze, getting lost into the abyss of blue of the other eyes. 

A deep sorrow began to well up inside the pit of Spy's stomach. He was risking his whole career doing this, to even be in the same room as the enemy without killing them and especially being near each other off hours. He was making such a fool of himself. Letting out a heavy sigh, he picked up his first knife that had been tossed to the side, “Farew-” he wasn't able to finish his word, or tuck away his knife, before there was a rough grab to his other arm. 

The BLU turned his attention to the RED, noticing that he was holding on desperately to the suit sleeve, the blue eyes begging him not to go. Sniper pulled the other closer to him, getting a small _eep_ from the man. He took in a deep breath, grabbing onto the blue tie, visibly seeing the Spy tense up, expecting something horrible to happen. 

_Now or never mate_ , Sniper mentally told himself, before giving a quick yank of the tie. Instead of pulling the Spy away, he pulled the man forward, their lips meeting half way. 

The Blue suited man gasped inside the others mouth, his body tingling from the passion of the sudden kiss. He felt his muscles relax, enjoying the sensation, eventually closing his eyes. A hand rose, gently touching the rouch cheek of the Sniper with his gloved hands, slowly moving his fingers down to cup the side of his jaw, leaving his thumb to gently rub circles on the cheek. 

His face was flustered, red as ever, but he enjoyed the kiss to much to care, or even stop. He returned the passion, sneaking his tongue passed the Sniper's teeth, tasting and feeling every surface he could reach. 

Sniper let out a soft groan, moving his arms to let his forearms rest upon the shoulders of the BLU. He was enjoying the moment as well, letting his tongue brush against the invading tongue of the Spy, pressing his body closer to the other. Their lips never parted fully, only for breif moments to get a gasp of air before smashing into each other again, their eyes never opening. 

Soon, Spy let his free hand rest on the left pectoral of the Sniper, letting it sit there for a moment before trailing towards the button that kept his shirt closed. After opening up the red shirt, he dropped his other hand from the cheek down to the chest. Slipping both gloved hands under the shirt, he began to tease the Aussi for a little while, petting at his bare chest, slipping them anywhere he could reach, slowly moving his fingers up and down the sides. 

Finally, after the prompting of an annoyed grunt from the Sniper, Spy stopped teasing, gently making circles around Sniper's hardening nipples, moving to pinching them lightly, each time making the pressure a bit more each time he repeated the action. 

Sniper let out a low groan, low but quiet. This annoyed Spy slightly—that wasn't the reaction he wanted to get. An idea came to his mind, forcing him to smirk a bit. He roughly parted their lips making sure to nip a bit at the Sniper's tongue before it left his mouth, causing the Aussi to worry: did he do something wrong? 

A small smile spread onto the Spy's face, his hands grabbing either side of the vest, before forcefully yanking it off the Sniper's shoulders. As if that was the signal, the sharpshooter's mind put the pieces together. The smile spread to Sniper's face, his arms quickly shoving off the suit jacket, and then worked on getting off the tie. 

He struggled with getting the damned thing off. Ties, whether or not they were being taken off or being put on, always gave the Australian a problem. Finally after a bit of help from the Frenchman, the tie was off as well as the blue vest, and Sniper was busily working on taking off the dress shirt, one button at a time. He had offered to just rip it off, but the Spy reminded him that the shirt would cost him an arm and a leg. 

Once the dress shirt was off, Spy returned the favor, kissing the man on the lips before quickly parting to slip off the red shirt over the man's head. He returned his lips to the others, nipping tenderly at the sensitive lips. 

Sniper hummed, slowly moving them back towards the back end of the van where the bed was. Close enough he leaned forward, catching the Spook by surprise as he fell back first into the plush mattress. He smirked, pulling the Australian down to him, giving him a deep kiss. In a moment, he parted the lips, a smirk on his face, “Shall we?” 

The sharpshooter smirked back, giving a small nod, “Okay, mate.” He leaned in, pushing himself up towards the top of the bed, Spy mimicking his movement. They didn't bother to put the sheets over themselves, both working to remove the belts that held up their pants. 

In a breathtaking moment, their time was cut short, by a loud banging on the van door. Huffing, Sniper put a hand on the covered cheek of the Spy, “Don't move, I'll be back.” The man smiled a little before nodding. 

The Australian stood up, not bothering to put on his own shirt or replace the belt back over his pants. He put a finger to his lip as he arrived in front of the door, getting the same gesture mimicked to him from the Spy. 

Turning the door, Sniper opened it to reveal Scout, Heavy and Engineer. The kid pushed his way past Sniper, his baseball bat out and resting on his shoulder, “You alright dude?” The Scout turned his focus on Sniper, before noticing that he was shirtless, “Um, did we come in at a bad time?” 

“What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?!” Sniper sputtered, quickly looking towards the back of the van. He noticed that the bed was empty, the blue suit missing and no imprint of the person he was just laying with there. He hid a frown, turning his attention back to Scout, “You don't go bloody barging into somebody's home you wanker!” Sniper's accent was becoming thick, something that happened when he was angry. 

“Heavy and Engineer were worried because there was a Spy,” Scout huffed, pointing towards the two who were politely standing outside of the van, “And Heavy saw you walk away with the Engineer only to find the guy stumble out of the respawn room like a moron.” 

“Pardner,” Engineer huffed, “You wouldn't have been able to take down that Spy when you were caught by surprise.” He shook his head, ignoring whatever comment the Boston kid made, looking to Sniper, “You alright?” 

“I was alright before I was interrupted by an obnoxious little ankle bitter,” He hid his disappointment with a sheath of anger, “I got a bit sleepy and wanted to sleep. Guess I won't be doing that either.” He shot a glare towards the Scout. 

“What about the Spy?” Heavy questioned, leaning over so his head was able to be seen by the Sniper in the small doorframe, “Did you have problem with him?” 

“Nah,” Sniper shook his head, “If it was the Spook, he didn't follow me into my van, we parted ways before I tried to clean my van.” He tried not to let the annoyance boil over, turning to focus on all his teammates, “Now, can you bug off so I can actually get a good nap in?” 

Engineer and Heavy voiced their apologies, before pulling Scout away, saying they should check on the other teammates to make sure the Spy didn't go after them. When they were finally gone, and a few minutes after, Sniper turned to look around his van, “Spy?” He called out softly the first time, then raised his voice, “Spy?” 

When no response came, he felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. The guy was gone. He let out a heavy sigh, walking sluggishly towards the front of the van, passing the strewn papers on the table. His eyes caught something different, causing him to stop. 

On the table one of the pages that was originally facing up with a picture of two arctic foxes curled up together, was now face down, with smooth precise letters inked into the paper. Sniper picked up the page, looking closer at the words: 

_Bushman,_

_Apologies about having to leave so soon. If we were caught by your teammates, it would not only cost you their trust, but your job as well. Desole, sadly things will not work out. If only we lived in a perfect world where we could not have to worry about teammates and MannCo getting in our way, but we don't. Don't forget that feeling, mon amour. Keep it._

_~That backstabbing scoundrel_

Sniper let out a deep sigh, collapsing down to the ground, letting his back slowly slouch down as he slid down the wall. Once on the floor, he held the letter close to his chest. He threw back his head, letting it rest against the wall, “God mate... How could you be so stupid?” It was a curse at himself, feeling a wave of self loathing overcome him. 

As quickly as it came it was replaced with a heavy overbearing sorrow. He shook his head, trying to keep the tears inside, a low sob escaping despite his best efforts, “But Spook... I want you to stay with me... I would give up my team, my job... for you.” 

The sea blue eyes watched as the three made their way back to their base, feeling anger boiling inside him. The idiots had gotten in the way, but he partially had to thank them. If they hadn't came, who knows how much he would have fucked himself over. The fingers slipped inside his jacket, pulling out his disguise kit, “I will still make you pay for that...” He sighed, pulling out a cigarette. As he lit the end, he hear familiar approaching steps. 

“Did you get your revenge, Herr Spy?” The German accent only verified his hunch that it was his medic. The man knew a lot about the BLU Spy, including his strange rivalry with the RED Sniper, “Or did it perhaps go differently than what you thought?” His voice danced with amusement, seeing the suit jacket and vest in the Spy's hand, as well as the fact the shirt wasn't buttoned up. 

“Love is fickle,” Spy hummed, taking a drag of the cigarette, “You never expect it to show it's face until it decides it's time, and it always seems to have a ton of obstacles in the way.”He turned his focus to his teammate, hiding the soul crushing sorrow in his chest, “It's always strange that way,” he snorted, less with amusement and more disgust, “Never thought I would be on the receiving end of Love being a connard.” 

“You never know,” Medic mused, stepping up next to the Frenchman, pushing his spectacles up on his face, “Love works in mysterious ways. If there is a will, there is a way.” 

“Thank you for the motivational speech, vous petit merde.” Spy chuckled, letting the smoke slowly seep out from the corner of his mouth.


End file.
